


stay

by orphan_account



Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Infidelity, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-28
Updated: 2012-03-28
Packaged: 2017-11-02 15:20:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 918
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/370456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>i've given you my best / why does she get the best of you?</p>
            </blockquote>





	stay

It starts so subtly that Monroe, at first, doesn’t even realize what’s going on.

He’s always been a perceptive person, but he’s also always been determined to close his eyes against something he doesn’t want to see. He’s never been strong. If he were strong, he wouldn’t be doing this.

But he’s not, and when Nick kisses him the first time, he’s a little bit surprised but not surprised enough to pull back, to ask him what the hell he’s doing, to say _but Juliette_. And when he takes Nick to bed, he’s not gentle, but it’s not enough to leave marks.

(There’s a love-bite in the shadow of Nick’s right hip.)

And that’s how it goes. Monroe never questions it, because, if he’s honest with himself—and that’s another one of his many faults, he lies to himself more than he’d ever lie to anyone else—he doesn’t want to do anything to risk this. If he can’t have Nick, he can at least have this, have Nick breathless and moaning in his bed, have sheets that smell of him for just a little while after he leaves.

(Monroe washes all of his bedding after those nights, because he thinks he’ll lose his mind if he has to smell him for just another second.)

\--

Juliette’s voice is soft and concerned, and Monroe tries not to listen. It’s a game, almost, seeing how long it takes before she calls.

Sometimes it’s ten minutes, eleven minutes after they get done. Sometimes it takes hours. Tonight, it’s just over half an hour, and Monroe’s fucked Nick twice, once in the shower, holding him up with one strong hand under Nick’s thigh and the other braced against the wall. Nick’s hair is still damp, and he’d smell of Monroe’s shampoo even if Monroe had human senses. Nick is standing in the middle of the bedroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, holding his phone to his ear.

He wonders how Nick will explain that to Juliette. _Weird case, I got something dumped all over me, figured I’d just shower at Monroe’s when I stopped by_. He’s not a very good liar, but it doesn’t stop him.

Monroe knows he feels bad, but he won’t let himself wonder why it keeps happening.

 _Is everything okay_ , Juliette is saying.

 _Of course_ , Nick says. _I’d call you if it wasn’t, baby, you know that_ , and Monroe dresses silently, flannel pajama bottoms and a tee-shirt and a hoodie because it feels like the temperature has dropped twenty degrees.

\--

It’s made even worse later on, because Monroe meets Juliette properly and he _likes_ her. She’s sharp and genuine and sees through him—although he’s clearly not totally transparent, she clearly can’t see the guilt that feels like it’s corroding his bones.

Watching them interact reminds him of staying with his grandparents when he was a pup. They didn’t say it often—Grandpa wasn’t a very talkative man—but it was blindingly obvious in every single move they made that they were crazy about each other, even after seventy years. Nick and Juliette aren’t at that stage yet, but it’s not a stretch of the imagination to see it.

“So you’re the guy that’s been stealing him,” she says when they first meet, and he just smiles. It’s not true, no matter how much some small, bitter part of him wants it to be.

\--

He hates himself for this, sometimes—most of the time, really—hates that he feels like someone has scooped out his heart and replaced it with some ticking thing that says _Nick—Nick—Nick_ as a normal heart beats.

\--

“You should stay,” he says one night, one hand splayed over Nick’s hip. Nick is facing him, one arm over Monroe’s waist, and he glances up without really moving his head.

His lips are a little bit swollen. Monroe closes his eyes for just a little longer than a blink.

“I mean,” he says, and swallows. “You could just—”

“I can’t,” Nick says, voice low and—God, Monroe would think he sounded pained if he didn’t know better. If he didn’t think he knew better, anyway. “You know I can’t.”

“I don’t know that,” Monroe says before he can stop himself. _I don’t know anything because I’m too scared to ask because I’m too scared of the answer_ , and God, he’s such a coward.

“Monroe,” Nick says, and it comes out as a sigh. He presses a kiss to the underside of Monroe’s jaw, pulls himself a little bit closer.

“We can’t keep doing this,” Monroe says, and Nick pulls back, looking up at him. He looks confused and a little bit hurt and Monroe hates himself.

“What do you mean?” Nick runs a hand down Monroe’s ribs. “I can stay if it means that much, I didn’t think you—”

“That isn’t what I’m talking about,” Monroe says, and sits up. “I can’t keep doing this, Nick. You have Juliette,” and he feels Nick tense next to him because they’ve never said her name out loud here, not like this, “and I—I’ve never been second place, I can’t be second place, I can’t do this.”

It all comes out in a rush but he doesn’t feel horrified like he was expecting. He doesn’t even feel scared. He just feels tired.

“I should—I should go,” Nick says, and stands up, dresses quickly and a little haphazardly, runs a hand through his hair.

“Yeah,” Monroe says quietly, watching him. “Yeah, you probably should.”


End file.
